


where all the stars align

by remrose



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remrose/pseuds/remrose
Summary: The importance of clothes, whether it's for prom (to the death), or recuperation.





	where all the stars align

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sour_Idealist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Idealist/gifts).



> happy yuletide! i hope you enjoy :)
> 
> title from you and i by pvris

Magnus was never very comfortable in formal wear. He wasn't big on the whole fashion thing in general. The first time he wore his denim jacket with denim jeans he didn't understand by Blitz had to sit and put his head in his hands. But exposure and persistence meant he was at least aware of what he was meant to look like in certain situations (nefarious wife-swapping weddings aside).

The outfit Blitz made him for the Hotel Valhalla prom (to the death) was a soft forest green vest, with a crisp white undershirt, and an emerald bow-tie. He rolled his sleeves in quarters like Blitz had patiently taught him, and made faces at himself in the mirror. He didn't particularly enjoy the whole dressed-up experience. It was just so far out of his usual realm.

But regardless of his feelings on the matter, Magnus slid his feet in the freshly shined shoes, tried to flatten one stubborn cowlick on his short hair, and then he strode out of the bathroom. Alex was lounging on his couch, flicking through a magazine.

"How do I look?" Magnus asked.

"With your eyes." Alex replied, without looking up.

Magnus snorted, despite himself. "Thanks, I had no idea."

Alex smiled, and gave him an exaggerated once over. She pronounced: "You look like a huge dork."

"Just what I was aiming for." Magnus replied, clicking over in his uncomfortable shoes and joining her on the couch. "Have you decided what you want to wear?"

"No." She said. "I don't know. Last time I wore a dress I was trying to trick someone. But I'm not really feeling a suit either."

"Is there a third option?" Magnus said, leaning over to see what the magazine was. It was a National Geographic. There was a goat standing majestically in a field, but all Magnus could think about was Otis and his distressed bleating.

"I don't know." Alex repeated, chewing on her thumb. "I hate committing to this kind of thing. Like if I put on a dress maybe when I get there I'll start second guessing myself."

Magnus shrugged. "So we bring pants."

That made Alex laugh. She had a beautiful smile, and Magnus gazed at her, gooey.

Then she slapped his knee, and said, "I think you did the bow-tie wrong, by the way."

Magnus merely sighed. "I think so too. I _also_ hate this kind of thing."

"Don't like wearing a suit?" Alex asked, leaning over and untying the bow-tie from his throat.

"When I grew up, my mom and I never did this." Magnus said, finally catching his breath when the bow-tie came loose. "We were more like, put on your jeans and go see how can climb the trail the fastest. Or get your swim trunks and let's go jump in that lake. Clothes were meant to be a thing that gave you the means to connect with the world. Not... a presentation. A show for everyone else."

Alex nodded slowly, and took the bow-tie, and tried to tie it in her hair. "I get that. It can be exhausting, trying to show everyone something about yourself with what you wear. I mean, it can also be totally fun. But sometimes I just wanna wear whatever and not think too hard about it."

The bow-tie would not stay in her hair. She examined it thoughtfully. Then she said, "I like this colour. I'm borrowing this."

"Go ahead." Magnus said, not wanting to wear it at all.

"I'm gonna get dressed." Alex hopped up, and offered her magazine. "Don't lose my place."

"I won't."

She walked away, but a moment later something hit his head. "Put this on!"

It was the jean jacket Alex made him for his birthday, with BEANTOWN in rhinestones on the back. He snorted, and pulled it on over his white collared shirt. It probably looked terrible. Magnus tried to summon back the dirty kid playing with his mother who didn't care what he wore, holding one finger in Alex's place as he read the magazine from the beginning.

Alex waltz back in her pink dress, with the bow-tie as a pop of emerald green on the belt, and a matching jean jacket covered in metal spikes. Magnus laughed, as his heart swelled, and he got up to offer her an arm. Looking at her, with her sarcastic eyebrow raise, he thought to himself that maybe it wasn't what he wore, it was who he wore it with.

Blitzen was never uncomfortable in formal wear. Sure, he could wear informal clothes if the moment needed it, but catch him watching TV in a suit and tie, completely relaxed. He wasn't the type to put on a pair of sweatpants, like ever.

In fact, Blitz didn't even own any. Which became a point of consternation between him and his elf.

 _"What do you wear if you're not feeling well?"_ Hearth signed, tilting his head.

 _"A three-piece suit to make myself feel better._ " Blitz signed back, finishing the motions with a bright smile.

Except that maybe, possibly, just a little bit, Hearth might've had a point. Because on day two of the flu, Blitz realized that he truly did not have something comfortable to wear when all his skin felt like it was being peeled off, and maybe a pair of sweatpants might be a good idea.

 _"What's up?"_ Hearth asked when Blitz pitifully came to him.

_"Can I borrow your sweat pants?"_

Hearth blinked, then reached out and felt his forehead. He winced at the heat. _"Yeah, come on."_

There was a significant height difference between them, but that was easily solved by rolling the sweatpants up at the cuff. Since he was already raiding Hearth's closet, he helped himself to a black shirt as well.

 _"How long have you been sick?"_ Hearth asked, watching him carefully fold his suit onto the back of a chair.

 _"I'm fine."_ Blitz signed over his shoulder, straightening his shoes, and reluctantly faced his best friend again.

 _"Yes, I believe that. The fact that you're wearing sweatpants right now isn't raising a million red flags._ " Hearth signed, raising an eyebrow.

Blitz sighed, and flapped a hand at him, dismissive. Padding barefoot out of his room and into the kitchen, to put the kettle on. Hearth followed, and stood in the doorframe. He tapped on the fridge for attention, then signed, _"Did you spend the whole day at work with a fever?"_

 _"I had stuff to finish."_ Blitz defended, picking through the weird collection of mugs and settling on the '#1 Mom' one that Magnus gave him.

_"Are you going to get some rest now?"_

Blitz, being a dwarf, was more of a night owl. And it was barely night, the sun having only set about an hour before. But he was pretty tired, so he shrugged.

He made tea. Hearth vanished, and when he came back he was no longer in his black-on-black-on-black leather jacket combination, but instead in sweatpants (unrolled at the cuffs) and a sleep shirt. He gave a thumbs up.

Blitz laughed tiredly, and crossed the kitchen tile to hug him, pulling him down to his level and holding on tight. Hearth wrapped his arms around his waist gently, and when they pulled apart he signed, _"Last time I was sick you threatened to handcuff me to bed when I wouldn't rest. You have set a precedent."_

He smiled, exhausted, and said, _"I fear I have, bud. Alright. Let's go."_

Hearth dragged him to the bed and turned off all the lights, bundling them both up in a blanket and holding on tightly.

Comfortable, a little too hot, but not bad. He imagined sweatpants would feel like giving up. It was more like... letting himself be okay with existing. Cutting himself some slack, once in a while. In the morning, he would get up and put the suit back on. Until then, he slept.


End file.
